


August

by audreyslove



Series: Signed Sealed Delivered [18]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: Written for Prompt Party - special prompt
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills & Robin Hood, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Series: Signed Sealed Delivered [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/932982
Comments: 17
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

“We’re getting a divorce,” Emma says as soon as Regina takes her first sip of coffee.

Well, she’s always been blunt and to the point hasn’t she?

It throws Regina off, has her sputtering and almost spitting out her chai.

This was not what she expected when Emma asked to get together because there was something she had to run by her.

She had thought maybe it was about a tentative vacation of family drama. Not _this._

“I am sorry, repeat that _?”_ Regina asks, coughing up the bit of tea that caught in her throat.

“Neal and I, I mean.”

“Yes, he’s the only husband you have, I figured it was him,” Regina bites back.

Emma shrugs and sips her coffee “We haven’t been happy for a long time.”

Well, Regina had picked up on something. But not the end of a relationship something.

“I figured it was a rough patch.”

“It’s not. I didn’t want to say anything before because… I know you’re still a bit sensitive to divorce and breakups right now.”

Regina scowls. “I’m not fragile, I can talk about that stuff.”

“I know, but I also know last year fucked you up,” Emma reminds. “I didn’t want to say anything to you because I knew you were so miserable. You wouldn’t want me to go through that.”

“I really wouldn’t,” Regina agrees. “Have you tried counseling, or just really working on communication, it has helped Robin and I so —“

“I want someone else,” Emma tells her.

Regina is shocked, and Emma slumps forward, letting her head drop to the table as she groans.

“I’m sorry,” Emma says in a muffled voice.

“Don’t apologize to _me,_ ” Regina murmurs. “That’s between you and Neal.”

Emma raises her head and brushes her long blonde hair back. “I didn’t go looking for it. I just… Neal and I weren’t fitting together. And I was lonely and he was there for me, and it just… I don’t know.”

“Do I know him?” Regina asks softly

Emma nods and bites her lip. “It’s um, August. August Booth.”

Regina could have guessed it, actually. Emma and August were childhood friends who recently reconnected, and she’s felt they got a bit flirty together, but she had assumed it was just childhood nostalgia she misunderstood.

But he’s very much Emma’s type, and, well, there’s the birthday gift he gave her, the handcrafted wooden vase filled with wooden roses. (“There are six,” he had said, “but really three and three, for thirty-three.)

“Emma….” Regina sighs. “I guess I saw something there.”

“Neal just…” Emma sighs. “We just fought all the time. We never would have made it this far if not for Henry. Don’t think we would have married at all.”

Emma’s pregnancy definitely accelerated things, that’s for sure. She was a (slightly) pregnant bride at a rushed ceremony, but Regina saw love there, always had when Emma looked at Neal.

But then again, August was her childhood best friend (and more, at times).

What is it with this family and reviving relationships with exes?

Ok, not that she can complain, Robin may have had an ongoing affair with the past with Marian but his inability to directly move on from his exes did work in her favor eventually. She got him back in the end.

“Um, we had an arrangement, we started it not long before you and Robin broke up or did whatever you did. Neal and I decided we could stay together and see other people. For Henry. So… don’t feel too bad for him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Regina asks, the hurt plain from her voice.

“I wanted to, but I didn’t think you would approve and you had all those issues with Robin and I just… I thought opening the marriage would fix things.”

Regina narrows her eyes. Emma isn’t _that_ stupid.

“It helped for a bit!” she exclaims. “I felt like we were closer, even. But then we’d fight and wouldn’t talk about it and we just grew apart. We just talked about it and Neal is just as done as I am. His dad is letting him use one of his rental properties for a while. I just need to talk to Henry. I wanted you to know first.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from us,” Regina murmurs.

Emma shrugs. “I think I was embarrassed. I felt like a failure, a bit.”

And she’s not, not at all, but Regina gets the feeling.

She smiles and tells her she wishes her and August the best, that she’s looking forward to seeing him.

And she tries not to be annoyed at the fact she’s crept back to her childhood ex, something that, frankly, she doesn’t much like at all for reasons she knows aren’t fair to put on Emma or Robin.

.::.

Henry and Roland are playing in the park like wild animals while Regina and Robin sit on a picnic bench opposite Emma and August.

Emma _is_ happy. August is different with her than Neal, he teases, he jokes, but he has a softer edge. He’s a bit more touchy-feely, looks like he’s almost grateful to be around her.

Neal has been edgy and rough and quick-witted, they were always sparring back and forth and that’s the kind of relationship Regina had assumed she wanted.

But August is soft and romantic bordering on sappy. Emma seems happy with him.

“Do you remember when we had that scavenger hunt?” August asks, “Robin, you were home from boarding school then, it was the end of the year, the high school had that massive contest and had us roaming all over the city?”

“Oh god,” Emma throws her head back and laughs. “We’d never be able to do that these days. All those unsupervised kids running around D.C. through all hours of the day and night? Mary Margaret was _thirteen_.”

“We went to this park, remember?” He asks, winking at Emma, his arm around her. “Emma and I were on a team together,” he explains to Regina, who is feeling very much like the outsider.

“We had to climb a tree and take a picture as high up as we could go,” Emma laughs. “With our polaroid. God that was unsafe.”

“Fun though,” August smiles, “You were so competitive, wanted to be up as high as possible. I swear I thought you would fall, but you just kept going higher…”

His eyes light up when he speaks, and Regina wishes she had something to wash away the bitter taste in her mouth that childhood love reunited gives her.

It’s so poetic.

And she thought Emma and Neal were perfect. They had a child, they loved one another.

But she can see the soft way Emma looks at August, the way her fingers dance and play with his, the way her world lights up when he tosses her hair and reminds her of their past exploits, and no, Neal doesn’t hold a candle.

“What I remember of this park is sneaking and bringing a blanket and some ridiculous fruity vodka drink in water bottles,” Robin snickers.

August smiles, snaps his fingers, and says, “Oh god, that time you, me and Marian and her friend were out here and that cop car stopped and we—-“

She can see Robin wince and interrupt, “No. That was — that was a different park.”

She grimaces, Emma is looking at her with concern and Robin is decidedly _not_ looking at her as if he’s avoiding her. She wonders if she made a visible face the mention of Marian or was able to avoid it, but from the way Emma’s look at her, she clearly hasn’t.

August, though, is oblivious. “You stay in touch with Marian? You two, man, I always thought the two of you would—“ he catches himself then, realizes too late he’s talking about the compatibility of some random broad from high school in front of his now wife and clamps up.

“Well, he had to settle,” Regina says with a sarcastic drawl.

August laughs, then shuts up when he realizes he’s the only one.

“Regina…” Emma says, her voice all full of sympathy.

Regina just waves her hand. “I’m fine. I was just kidding.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean anything by it. I mean when was the last time Robin and Marian were even together? It has to have been—“

“Oh, oh,” Emma interrupts wildly before the question is finished and things get more awkward, “I just remembered a funny story about how you never know _when to shut the fuck up._ ”

That makes Regina laugh, despite it all, Robin, too, and August, sheepishly, his shoulders shrugging as he concedes Emma, like always, is right.

“Seriously, though. All I hear about is how wonderful you are,” August says to Regina, and she can tell he means it. “You know that, right? You have to. The whole family adores you.”

Regina nods, tries to look sincere and waves it off.

“See? She’s fine,” August nods toward her. “Anyway, about the fruity vodka drink——

“The recipe was crystal light, water and vodka,” Emma says, shaking her head.

“Remember when we brought it into Orioles stadium and the one ticket guy opened the bottles and smelled them and then called security?” August asks, and they both laugh.

Regina tried not to feel left out, but all this talk of their teenage antics, the way Emma snuggles into August, every story of their past making it sound like they were connected in this way the whole time, destined to find each other again.

If it weren’t for Regina interfering, she realizes Robin might very well be here at this park with Marian in his arms, sharing the very same love story.

.::.

Regina isn’t a natural sharer.

They are _supposed_ to be talking about everything, Regina and Robin. All their feelings, it’s the way to recover from that awful year, but they’ve talked about it, they have, it’s been _months_. And she was sure she was over everything with Marian.

She’s mortified that she apparently isn’t.

But this thing she is feeling now is not about betrayal, not anger over how quickly Robin fell into bed with someone else, not about how he kept it a secret from her.

This is old insecurity creeping back up, something she’s been feeling for years and never really talked to Robin about it — but she always assumed he knew.

Regina has been making him avoid seeing Marian, and even when they accidentally ran into her at a store Regina became possessive as hell over him, he has to know this isn’t about some random drunken night but the fact that she’s wondered for years if she’s measured up.

But Reginas does not like sounding weak or insecure. So she hasn’t voiced this fear, but it’s obvious, isn’t it?

She both hopes it is and hopes it is not. And keeps waiting for the feelings to fade and her to get over it without having to pathetically bring up this whole incident again.

August isn’t making this any easier.

August wants to _get the old gang together_ , and Regina thinks she might hate him, though it’s not entirely his fault. August knows she and Robin had a “bad fight” last year, he has no idea it was a year separation and almost led to a divorce, and he certainly doesn’t know Robin fucked Marian a month after he moved out. So August is talking about inviting Marian, Mary Margaret, some old friend named Peter and John, who at least Regina knows and loves (and she thinks loves her, truly).

Most of those people, Regina would be happy to spend time with. She just does _not_ want to see Marian. At all. And more than that, she doesn’t want any of her friends to see Marian, but perhaps most of all, she doesn’t want to _talk_ about how she doesn’t want to see Marian.

So she says nothing, smiles and agrees to August’s fucking terrible reunion plan, where people will no doubt say they always saw him and Emma ending up together, and then someone is going to say they always saw Robin with Marian, and Reginas will secretly plot their murder.

“I’m so excited to see everyone!” Mary Margaret chirps at their family dinner the next week. “I can’t believe August became so successful. That house of his sounds amazing.”

“It _is_ amazing,” Emma answers, “Honestly, he was never much of a student but he always was an artist. I didn’t see him doing all _that,_ though. His woodwork is… I mean it’s acclaimed. He made a custom chest for _Diane Keaton.”_

“Marian showed me some of his pieces online, He’s so talented,” Mary Margaret agrees.

“So was Neal,” Regina says, before she can think twice.

And then there’s just silence as everyone loses their words.

Emma’s face goes white, then red with shame. “I never said he wasn’t talented,” she mutters.

“Sorry,” Regina says quickly, “Forget I said anything.”

It’s a bit awkward, but they move past it. And everyone is so oblivious they don’t think about why things might be tender.

“Marian just started a new job this week!” Mary Margaret tells them. “I really want to celebrate with her, we are thinking of taking her out next Friday Maybe with a few high school friends? August kept in touch with a lot of people, Marian would be so excited to see them all!”

“Oh how wonderful!” Regina says with mock enthusiasm. “Another night of hearing about your high school antics, I can’t wait!”

Mary Margaret looks hurt and personally offended, and Regina wishes she had the strength to point out it’s not the nostalgia that bugs her, it’s the fact Marian is always there. But she isn’t allowed to still be hurt about this, too much time has passed.

Emma laughs and tells Regina she sometimes forgets that she hasn’t always been there with the family, that she wasn’t in high school with them. Regina isn’t quite ready to make a fool of herself in front of Robin’s whole family and bring up the fact that she clearly wasn’t around back then because that’s when her husband first developed his on-again, off-again relationship with their good friend Marian. And that the relationship turned back “on” a lot more recently than they all know.

She doesn’t say a thing, but Regina doesn’t miss the way Robin looks at her, that guilt and concern so evident on his face. So perhaps she’s not as good at concealing her struggles as she thought.

.::.

He doesn’t bring it up until after Roland is in bed, until they are getting ready to turn in for the night, cleaning the kitchen after dinner.

“Do you not like August?” he asks casually.

“I like August fine,” she snaps, rolling her eyes at Robin’s _you could have fooled me._

“Well if I’m not as chatty as you all it’s because you tend to reminisce about the good old days, before either of you met me. I don’t really have a lot to contribute to the conversation.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “Sorry, I’ll try to tone that down. I tend to get a bit sappy and nostalgic when it comes to those memories.”

“Yes, you are a sucker for nostalgia,” Regina drawls.

“Love,” and he sounds sweet but almost condescending. “Is that what has been bothering you lately? Or is it something else? I thought maybe it was August bugging you, maybe you were more attached to Neal than I knew.”

“He was like family for years,” Regina points out, and Robin nods.

“But no, I really do like August. He’s good for her. Better for her overall. It’s weird, I wouldn’t have pictured someone so gentle and sweet for her. But it works. It’s just a big change. And I feel for Neal, honestly.”

“I get that,” Robin agrees. “I’ve always loved August, honestly. More than Neal. So it’s been an easier transition for me. But…. is that truly it? Because you seem… you seem tense. I feel it, did I do something?”

Regina shakes her head. He truly didn’t. And she doesn’t want to talk about Marian again.

“I just am going through a bit of a pity party,” she admits. “I’ll get over it.”

“How can I help?” Robin asks.

“You could ask your sister to talk about all your wonderful times with Marian less,” Regina saus before she can think better of it. Robin doesn’t look surprised in the slightest at her request, as if he expected it.

Well then. It seems he’s been avoiding bringing her up but he knew she was a reason behind this.

“I’m sorry, love. I know she’s been coming up more lately. It’s been months, my family, I’m not sure they even know I slept with Marian. And now with August around… I know. She comes up too often. I’ll tell them to not mention her for now. And I won’t show up to where she is, okay? I can skip family functions where she will be there. I think everyone will more than understand.

“Right,” Regina scoffs. “No, let’s make me the one who forces you not to see your ex from a decade ago, like a jealous, insecure wife. Great, I love that.”

She starts angrily cleaning the inside of a pot as the water in the sink runs.

“Okay…” Robin bites his lip. “But you _get_ to be a bit insecure. I mean if you had slept with someone—“

“Who? If I had slept with who?” Regina asks.

“Anyone,” Robin admits, “I would probably feel weird around anyone you slept with last year.”

“Oh no you wouldn’t,” Regina rolls her eyes. “If I had fucked a friend of Mary Margaret’s last year, you would be fine around them. And you know it.”

“Maybe,” Robin concedes, “But not at first. I guess not after a while or at this point, when I thought we… earned each other’s trust. But… you might not be there and that’s okay. I have to earn that back. I guess I thought we were already there.”

“We were,” Regina sighs sadly. “We still are. This isn’t about a lack of trust.”

“Then what, love? I made a drunken mistake when we were broken up, not one I will ever repeat. I love you. You have to know that.”

“Of course I do,” she assures.

She does, god she knows he loves her. But that doesn’t stop her from thinking that eventually his heart will circle back to Marian, like he always does, like a junky that just can’t make it to their ten year sober chip. Whether he acts on it or not, perhaps a quiet part of him will always belong to her.

Robin looks relieved, smiles and asks. “Then what is it? Why have you been so tense over her lately — more so in the last few months than before. I thought things were getting better.”

He’s sometimes so obtuse. She really doesn’t want to have to go here but she will.

“Okay, fine,” Regina sighs, tossing her dishrag. “Do you not get that the fact it was _Marian_ you fucked that made everything so much worse?”

“I know, because she’s a family friend, and it sucks because you always have to see and hear about her—“

“No,” Regina says above a whisper. “Because you’re connected to her. In a way we will never be. And that’s never been more apparent than these last few weeks.”

Robin stands in the kitchen looking the very picture of confusion and remorse.

“I’m going to bed,” Regina grouses.

Robin protests. “Let’s talk about this. What about Marian? She’s really nothing to me.”

Regina thinks of August and how he was once _nothing_ to Emma, too. For a solid decade.

And now he’s playing stepdad to Henry and planning a life with her.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Regina makes a beeline toward the stairs. “I’m so damn tired.”

“We really should talk about it,” Robin almost begs, grabbing her arm and spinning her towards him, almost begging.

“Later,” Regina waves off, “When I can manage it?”

Robin looks unhappy with that idea so Regina decides to assure him a little. “I trust you, I know you’re not going to make plans for an illicit affair with Marian or anyone else. Okay? But Marian makes me insecure in a way no one else does and I can’t believe I’d even have to explain it. But I really, really don’t want to go through it now. Can we just pause this conversation?”

Robin sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “We’re still sleeping in the same bed together? This isn’t a “one of us takes the couch” situation?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I just have had enough of poking at this so far.”

Robin nods. “Maybe… we pause til therapy on Monday?” Regina nods, taking a deep breath in.

“For now, can we just pretend this conversation didn’t happen?”

Robin smiles and agrees, reminds her there’s a whole lot of things Netflix to distract her from her thoughts.

And it works, almost. She ends up in bed with Robin, wrapped around him, sleeping pleasantly, glad for a few days to put off a hard conversation.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin is kissing Marian and Regina doesn’t care.

They’ve never really shared much together, Robin and Regina. Just a few mistakes. A few bad decisions in the form of scorching hot kisses, stolen moments she hates herself for visiting and revisiting in her mind.

But Robin is kissing Marian, now, and Regina doesn’t care.

She’s happy for him. That’s what she told him when he said he was with her, and she hopes he bought it.

She has pushed him away repeatedly time and again because she doesn’t get to sleep with people like him, she certainly doesn’t get to ruin her relationship with Emma and her family because she can’t help but fuck the one person she’s promised she wouldn’t.

So she pushed Robin away, declared every intimate moment, every kiss, every single glance that made her heart skip a beat, just a mistake.

It sucks to make mistakes that feel so good, that make you feel dizzy and your skin heat, your blood boil and your heart flutter. It’s terrible how she’d kill for even his arm around her right now, just a platonic touch and his breath on her cheek as he leans in to whisper something — anything, it doesn’t matter what.

He’s kissing Marian now.

She’s seen him with other women, but other women weren’t this. She hates that she knows him so well she can _see_ how much he cares for her, the way he holds her cheek as he kisses her, how he touches her, it’s all tender and sweet, it’s not just about sex, and that makes it so much worse. She has never cared about the random hookup, but this is more than that. When she dares to look (which she can only bare when her curiosity overwhelms her fear), she sees Marian smiling bright as the sun, Robin looking absolutely smitten.

Regina doesn’t care. She doesn’t care so much she downs her vodka soda and orders another.

.::.

“I’m just saying he could have at least told me he didn’t want me around instead of picking a fight so he could have a guys night,” Emma pouts.

“Men are assholes,” Regina yells back over the loud music. “Fuck them all.”

She holds her plastic cup of melted ice, watered-down seltzer, and vodka in the air, waiting for Emma to tap it.

She doesn’t. “Who are you all fired up about?”

“No one,” Regina scoffs, laughing to herself. “He’s nothing.”

“That’s the spirit,” Emma says, clumsily tapping her plastic cup to Regina’s. “Fuck men. I hate them all.”

Regina laughs bitterly because Emma is about to spend the night whining about Killian, or Neal, or… that high school boyfriend of hers. And Regina is going to be there to listen, and comfort her, and tell her it’s fine, all while she is quietly heartbroken over something she has no right to feel.

She lets Emma pull her to the dance floor and tries not to think about it.

.::.

“Did you see my brother?” Emma screams over the music.

They’ve been out for two hours now and of course, she’s seen him, but she feels admitting she’s noticed will give away too much about her feelings.

So Regina just shakes her head. “I didn’t even know he was here,” she says back in this shrill, fake giggly tone Emma would realize is all an act immediately if she were sober.

“He’s been sucking Marian’s face-off,” Emma laughs. “Told Mary Margaret it’s for real, claims he loves her and is gonna treat her right. He’s humping her in a club, I guess that’s treating her right.”

Regina laughs because that’s what she’s expected to do, but she feels physically ill, and no one can know how hurt she is, the tears that threaten to spill will have to stay deep inside for now.

“I wish he’d just take her home, I don’t want to see him like _that_ with a woman,” Emma groans.

“He needs to find his own bars and clubs and stop always going to the same ones as us,” Regina scowls.

Emma raises an eyebrow. “What? Whenever I said that before you said we go to the same college and I am just going to have to deal. Why are you suddenly on my side?”

Regina shrugs, necks down her drink, and says, “I see your point. No one wants to see that,” she shouts over the music, nodding in Robin’s direction.

He’s being far too sweet with her, his hand hovering politely on the top of her butt, and she catches them in time just to see him brush his nose to hers.

“Well, that’s kind of sweet,” Emma shrugs. “It’s the other stuff I can live without ever seeing. That's just nice.”

Regina silently disagrees in ways she can never express.

“I’m getting another drink,” she declares.

“Get me one too!” Emma calls out.

It’s her fifth and she’s fairly certain Emma is at least one watered down rail drink behind her, so she doesn’t ask questions as she goes to buy some more alcohol to dull the obnoxious jealousy she has no right to feel.

.::.

Regina is kissing someone whose name she doesn’t even know.

He smells of stale beer and cheap cologne, and the smell of pot has lingered in his hair; it’s disgusting.

How did she get here?

Is the room spinning? Shutting her eyes helps.

“Can I touch you?” he murmurs into her ear.

He’s already touching her, of course, he can touch her, so she whispers back _yess_ and tries to find a way to enjoy this, maybe if she tilts her head just so her nose won’t be in his smoke-drenched hair, maybe if she takes control she can force him to use his tongue a bit less, maybe he can— _what the absolute fuck?_

His hand is up her skirt, peeling back her underwear and no, no no, that is _not_ what she meant by touch her.

She pushes him back and yelps out of the kiss, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she stares at him darkly.

“What? I asked, you were into it,” he says, looking far more angry and offended than he ought to.

“I don’t… I’m not... that’s not what I meant,” she says plainly. “I’m not going to let you fuck me here in the middle of a crowd.”

“But you’ll grind against me till I’m ready to pop. Get it, you fucking tease,” he sneers, leaving and muttering things the music thankfully drowns out.

Was she grinding against him? How did they even start talking (dear god, she hopes they talked before she stuck her tongue down his throat, what was she thinking?)? How is she already missing part of the night?

Everything is blurry and feels… less. Like there’s a cottony, soft edge to every emotion and physical feeling she should have. She remembers she’s mad at Robin for reasons she truly has no right to feel, remembers the pain, too, but that doesn’t hurt as much, either. This is manageable, she thinks. Will be more manageable with another drink.

So she teeters over to the bar, and the bartender smiles and gives her a freebie, says something about how hot she looks but she doesn’t say anything back. She’s looking for Emma and Elsa when she hears him.

“You alright, darling?”

She doesn’t need to see him right now — considers leaving without saying a word, but she’s always been weak for him, so she turns to Robin who is wearing that goofy, love-struck smile that will never be for her.

It hurts again. Too much.

“I’m fine,” she tries to smile. “And you?”

“Who was that guy?” Robin asks. “I thought you were with Jeff.”

“No, Jeff was just a little romp, nothing serious,” Regina swallows hard and tries to be happy for him because that’s what they are supposed to do because they are friends. She needs to just prove to herself and others that she’s okay with this, so she might as well just say something.

“You and Marian seem quite serious,” she manages to say in a way that doesn’t sound accusatory, she hopes.

“I… um, I wanted to talk to you before I… I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight. I feel like a shit. I should have told you.”

“Why? It doesn’t matter,” she says in a voice too high to be hers.

“I mean, if you were with someone serious—”

“So it is serious,” Regina says the words feel sharp and dangerous on her lips; she hates this. But Robin’s eyes widen, he can tell she’s upset, and she covers up her pain with a quick, far too saccharine, “That’s great! Happy for you.”

“Is this awkward? I mean, I know we were never together, but—”

“Yeah, we weren’t. We were drunken makeout partners. Nothing more,” Regina leans in to tell him over some loud obnoxious techno song. “You’re fine. Go be with Marian, go be in love or whatever, that’s not something you’ll ever get with me, I don’t want you that way.”

He looks hurt for a split second and she revels in it, feels proud even. But then she starts to feel bad about how harsh she sounds so she leans back to his ear and adds, “It’s okay Robin. I’m fine, I’m absolutely fine. If you’re happy, so am I. You _look_ happy, anyway.”

And when she leans back far enough to see him, he looks relieved.

“I _am_ happy,” he admits. “I just… I guess I missed her. And I am lucky she’s giving me a second chance.”

Fuck this. Fuck having to be a good supportive friend right now.

“Be good to her,” Regina slurs back. “She might not give you a third.”

“I’m not going to be my ass of a self this time,” he shouts, crossing his heart dramatically. “Trust me, I’ll make you and Emma proud. Be a good boyfriend. You’ll see.”

“Good,” Regina mutters. And she believes him and that’s what makes it worse.

Robin leaves, drinks for him and his love in hand, and Regina holds it together for a bit. Holds it together until Emma finds her and makes her dance, then drags her to the bathroom and asks what is wrong, because she senses it, she knows when Regina is hiding something.

And then when Regina stops being able to hold it together.

Emma only asks, “What is wrong? What happened to you tonight?” before Regina breaks down like a stereotypical drunken imbecile.

Tears rain down, but it’s not sweet romantic tears of movies, it’s ugly and snotty, drunken and messy, and _loud._ It’s so damn loud if she weren’t this drunk she’d be mortified. She leans against the wall and continues to cry, the floor is probably gross, she’s balanced on her heels in a squat to prevent actually sitting on it, but still... If she were sober she’d never do this.

Emma sidles next to her and strokes her hair.

“Oh my god,” Emma murmurs into her ear after a bit, “What’s going on, Regina, did someone hurt you?”

“N-no, it’s… I’m… I don’t even know why I—”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“T-too much,” she croaks.

“Okay,” Emma nods, “So maybe you’ve become an emotional drunk. Maybe that’s it?”

“I-I d-d-don’t kno-ow,” Regina stammers between sobs. “I h-h-hate beingg li-ike this, I do— don’t like to cry in public…” It turns whiny before the sobs come back. God, why can’t she just shut it off? She’s usually so in control of showing emotion, she thought.

“You just had too much to drink, okay? We’re going home.”

“I-I can go. You st-stay. Hsve fffun,” Regina stammers.

“Absolutely not, and don’t argue because if I was this drunk and upset you’d never leave me,” Emma says with authority.

Emm is not exactly sober herself, but she’s able to get her out and grab a cab.

By then, when they are out in the fresh air, Regina is able to get some control back. So focuses on taking deep breaths, on stopping the tears.

It works, she barely even sniffles in the cab. She doesn’t shed a tear at all until they are back in their apartment and the room spins, her stomach lurches, and the vomiting starts, and then it’s tears and her face in the toilet while Emma holds her hair and tells her to get it all out.

Too much to drink indeed.

She’s so embarrassed. She mutters apologies between tears and retching her stomach out, but Emma won’t hear of it. After all, she’s been there. She reminds Regina of the many times that _she_ has been holding Emma’s hair back, and Regina supposes that’s true, it’s her turn to be the hot mess for the night, isn’t it?

But this is worse than most times, she’s a wreck. (“You didn’t eat anything, did you? You just vomited pure liquid,” Emma notes, and Regina realizes she did not have a proper meal). She’s helped into a shower, then yoga pants and a tee shirt are laid out for her when she gets out. It’s surprising, being on the end of Emma’s nurturing. The woman was never particularly maternal but apparently she can bring it out at certain times.

The guilt she feels for Emma taking care of her is immeasurable. Emma is being a good friend — her best friend. And now she has to do the thing she warned Regina she didn’t want to do — take care of her friend who is currently a wreck over her brother.

Emma shouldn’t be comforting her. Regina was told to stay away from Robin and didn’t and _this_ is what she should get.

Still, Emma is being so damn soothing and she really needs someone to take care of her, so she takes the kindness she’s being offered but doesn’t deserve.

“Can you eat?” Emma asks when Regina pads out of her room. She feels far less drunk now. Just a bit… slushy in the stomach. As if she drank too much water. “I ordered Chinese. Maybe some rice? And there’s Gatorade.”

“Maybe,” Regina whispers. It does sound good, but she can’t risk puking again. So she picks at what Emma plates for her, each bite makes her feel closer to normal.

“I’m sorry,” Emma says, fidgeting “I was so caught up thinking of myself I didn’t realize you were upset. I feel awful for not noticing that there was something going on. And I don’t even know… if you want to talk about it, I swear I can be a better friend than this.”

Regina feels worse for letting her friend doubt her abilities. She wasn’t supposed to notice her desperately pining for her brother. This isn’t on Emma, it’s on her.

But Emma can’t know that and she is going to be worried until she explains, and really, Regina _wants_ to talk about it. She just has to make a minor change in the truth.

“Jefferson was… he’s with someone else,” Regina croaks, the tears stinging the back of her eyes. “I know I acted like it wasn’t serious but I really liked him and now…”

And the tears come again, but this time Emma’s arm is around her and she is shh-ing and holding her and telling her it’s okay.

“I didn’t know you cared so much about him,” Emma murmurs. “It almost seemed like you pushed him away.”

Regina _did._ She _did._ Both to Robin and Jefferson. But she only really meant to do it to Jefferson. Not to Robin.

“I did. I have no one to blame but myself, but now he’s with someone and he said he loves her and I—”

“How could he fall in love less than two months after he was with you?” Emma laughs. “That’s bullshit. You misheard.”

“It happens,” Regina says through choked sobs. “It can happen so fast when you don’t even expect it, and—”

The tears come again, and Emma says nothing, just strokes her wet hair as Regina cries over a person she isn’t allowed to love.

“He’s not worth this, Regina. You’re so much better than him. There are far better men for you.”

If only.

“What if—” she sniffles and sobs, choking on the words before they are even out. “What if he was the one and I pushed him away and now I’ll never get to feel that, or be with someone who—” the tears come harder now, she can’t finish her thought, the drunken haze makes everything so much more dramatic as she cries into her hand, Emma running a soothing touch up and down her spine.

“He’s a dime a dozen. He’s not worth this. You’re Regina Mills. So many guys will want you. So many guys _do_ want you. You’ll never have to be alone. Unless you want to, which… you used to… I mean you always said you wanted that. But maybe things changed?”

No, she has not changed. She doesn’t want anyone _else,_ she’s not afraid of being alone.

She just wants this one person.

“Oh my god,” Regina moans, “What if I _love_ him?”

“You don’t,” Emma says angrily. “You’re drunk and he hurt you, and maybe you’ve been light on sleep lately. But you do _not_ love him, okay? Things will feel better in the morning.”

Regina tells herself to believe Emma.

But come morning all she has is a hangover, leftover embarrassment from the sobbing she did last night, and that same heartache.

.::.

Every day after that gets a little easier.

She can be around them now.

She’s not exactly happy for him, but she isn’t miserable, either.

She flashes a smile when she sees Robin cozies up to Marian. The idea of him in bed with her doesn’t haunt her nightmares. She even is friendly with Marian, they have shared some laughs.

She and Robin it seems are destined to be best friends, or close friends. She’s surprised, but he still calls and texts her all the time. He takes her out for coffee, talks to her about classes. He is there for her when she’s upset, when she needs a sympathetic ear. It’s different now that he’s dating Marian, of course.

For one, she knows the sexual tension is all one sided now, which is rather embarrassing. She feels ashamed of it, sometimes, makes her hate herself for not being able to get over it.

He doesn’t flirt with her like he used to, but he still is touchy feely and sometimes it’s… vexing. Makes her want things she can’t have.

But she would never give up his friendship, not for anything, so she can deal with this, mostly. Better to handle it and have him still in her life. To see him and have him smile at her and draw her close as they walk to get coffee, throwing an arm around her neck like he does with Emma, innocent even if it doesn’t feel that way.

She likes him, far too much. And this is a warning sign, maybe, but she’s not strong enough to cut him out of her life.

Today she, John, Robin, Will, Emma, and Elsa are sitting in the lobby of the school pavilion between classes. Marian is there, because she’s spent the morning (and last night) with Robin and is killing time before she has to go back to her college across town.

When Marian gets up to leave, Robin kisses her sweetly and whispers something to her Regina doesn’t want to hear. But she can’t help but overhear the word _love._

And as Marian leaves, he watches her go.

Regina’s been comparing things. The way Robin looks at her, the things he says, the way he treats her.

It’s always been Marian. What they had was a few fun times. Regina was a friend he kissed when he was bored. Marian is his true love.

Thank god it never went further than some ill-advised make-out sessions between her and Robin or she’d really have some problems. But this is manageable.

“When’s the engagement?” Will asks, Emma snickering along with him.

Okay, she’s over this, but she doesn’t need to hear these jokes.

“Very funny,” Robin rolls his eyes.

“You two will make cute babies,” Elsa teases.

Unnecessary. Why is she friends with these people? They are in college. It’s too soon to talk about _babies._

“Will you all please stop, we just started seeing one another again,” Robin laughs.

“You do seem really head over heels,” Emma notes. “How are you gonna fuck this one up?”

They laugh as Robin shrugs like he’s genuinely unsure how he will ruin this, and she doesn’t know why this playfulness makes him even more irresistible to her, but it’s annoying.

“Never thought you’d get tied down in college,” Will grumbles. “You were supposed to help me get women. I thought you were a bit of a player.”

“Maybe I’m growing up,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his soda.

She excuses herself to the bathroom, just to have a second, just to calm herself down.

When she gets back out, John is on his way out and sees her. “You okay?” he asks.

She nods, shooting him a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just think all the Robin and Marian jokes are a bit boring,” he explains. “Especially for someone who doesn’t know their history.”

“They seem really happy,” Regina says, pursing her lips. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he nods.

.::.

Regina has never thought of it as odd that they still spend time alone together, her and Robin, even while they date other people. But she’s aware it raises some eyebrows, so Robin and Regina don’t really advertise it and prefer to spend most of their one on one time in private. He’s helping her with her differential equations class now, being a rather good teacher at that, even if he’s eating all the snacks in Regina and Emma’s apartment while he does.

“Things aren’t good with Marian,” he says, rather out of the blue, right in the middle of a chat about summer plans.

“Oh,” Regina says, trying not to sound pleased (she’s not, this doesn’t mean she gets to date Robin, it just means she gets to deal with him falling in love with someone else all over again).

“I mean I’m sure it’s obvious,” Robin adds, tossing his head back and rubbing his neck. “We barely talk and whenever she hangs out with us she’s all quiet.”

Regina hadn’t noticed. In fact, they looked just as in love as ever, but perhaps she just is an eternal pessimist who always sees the worst-case scenario, the worst case being that Robin and Marian were very much in love and going to marry one day.

“You know she keeps rolling her eyes at me. Everything I do is wrong. And she thinks I should go to church with her, her church, the one her parents belong to. I guess she decided it’s not so crazy anymore.”

“The evangelical one?” Regina asks, raising an eyebrow. “That is a lot. Marian is _not_ like that. That’s odd.”

“Her parents want her to go and suddenly it’s very important what her parents think, so she wants to go. And that means I should go too, I guess. And she… just never seems happy. She’s always annoyed with me. With something I did or said, it’s never quite right. And I can try to fix it but it’s just not _me_. And I feel like I’m growing to always be annoyed with her by trying to be what I’m not.”

“Mary Margaret will be so disappointed,” Regina murmurs. “She was planning your wedding.”

“Mary will live,” Robin shrugs. “But yes, I did consider that. I’ve been hoping Marian would end it with me, first.”

“You two seemed really happy,” Regina murmurs.

“Really? John already asked me what was up. Said we looked miserable.”

Okay, maybe she’s missed the signs, but truly while they might have looked unhappy in moments, Robin still looked at her as if she were gold, and that really was all she needed to know to keep her feelings for him at bay.

“So you’re ending it?” she asks, pretending to be interested in her homework.

“Probably. We will at least have a talk. It sucks. I really don’t want to hurt her. I was trying to be good to her. But I’m not making her happy, and it’s… it’s just making me feel like shit.”

“You did try,” Regina murmurs, still unable to look up at him. She doesn’t want to talk about how hard he tries to please Marian, it will give away that she’s been paying too close attention.

“Are you… umm, are you thinking about what an utter jerk I am?”

That makes her look up. He actually looks nervous. Worried.

“What? Why would I think that?”

“Because Emma told you how shitty I am to women, and I said I’d not be that this time, and here I did it again.”

“You didn’t — people break up,” Regina sighs. “Maybe you played fast and loose with women’s feelings before but you never seemed to do that with Marian. You treated her wonderfully. But who cares what I think, anyway?”

Because what she thinks is Robin still cares more about Marian than he cares to admit. Even his reason for breaking up with her revolves around her happiness. He’s never been so selfless or thought so much about another woman’s comfort. And something tells her that this breakup won’t stick. You can’t just get over someone you care this much about.

“Me,” Robin acknowledges. “A lot, actually. I really care what you think. You’re my… I mean, other than John, you’re my best friend.”

Regina swallows and tries to tamp down emotions welling inside her. Other than Emma, he’s her best friend. She gets it, she’d never want him thinking less of her. But she’s incapable of thinking less of him. She knows that deep down.

“I don’t think badly of you at all,” she assures, squeezing his hand. “And you’re one of my best friends, too.”

He flashes a grateful smile at her.

“We will always be friends,” she tells him, and herself. “No matter what you do, I promise I’ll always be your friend.”

He seems relieved at that, and they go back to equations.

.::.

_Twelve Years Later_

Regina fidgets. Therapy, especially couples therapy, is so uncomfortable. Even though Robin is here, she just doesn’t feel herself.

“Regina?” The blonde therapist taps her pen patiently. ”You said it bothered you so much more that Robin slept with Marian. That you wish it was anyone but her. I want to explore that a bit. Can you explain why?”

“Right,” she looks at Robin, and he’s the very picture of remorse. He doesn’t remember all those years the way she does. “I know you hadn’t been with her since college—”

“And that was very brief, before that it was _high school,”_ Robin interjects.

“But— exactly, she’s the one you came back to. Three times. She’s the one who…” Tears are going to fall, she’s going to lose that battle against the stinging pressure and release them. Fuck. Not yet, though, she can keep them at bay a bit longer. “She’s the one I would see you with and think, that’s the woman he’s going to be with forever. I waited, I waited and wondered when you’d get back with her. I watched you with her more than you know. You never treated anyone else the way you treated her. And I knew you loved me, I did, but I still wondered, all those years ago, if you wouldn’t rather be with her, and would have still been with her if you thought it was the best for her.”

The words tumble out and she braces her hand on her brow, cowardly covering her eyes from both Robin and the therapist because this is _humiliating._

“How long have you been thinking like this?” Robin asks softly. “Because it’s not true. It really isn’t. Marian... what I had with her doesn’t even come close to what we have.”

“It’s not like that, it wasn’t a constant thought. I had forgotten about it until Emma rekindled her romance with August and it just brought up so old wounds. The last time I was insecure about you and Marian was probably less than a year after we started dating for real.”

Robin’s jaw drops — okay, maybe even acknowledging it went on that long is too much.

“It’s just that when you told me you broke up with her, you said you were doing it for her own sake because you couldn’t give her what she needed or deserved, and it made me think—”

“I remember that talk. I was lying,” Robin interjects.

The therapist looks up at him pointedly and Regina glares. She doesn’t like lies. Even if they are over a decade old.

“Maybe not lying but definitely trying to make myself look good and twisting things,” Robin sighs and rubs his face, slaps his cheek lightly and looks up at the ceiling, blowing out an exasperated breath. Then he looks back at her, his eyes intent and focused on hers, a look so brutally honest she has to fight not to turn away. “Look, I cared _a lot_ about what you thought about me back then. I didn’t want you thinking I was this callous arse that just treats women like objects and uses them without caring how they feel, stuff Emma would tease me for, it was fine around her and the guys, but I hated you thinking of me like that. I _really_ wanted you to think better of me. Even if we weren’t together that way, I wanted you to respect me and think I was a good guy.”

“What are you talking about?” Regina asks. “You know I loved you as a friend, I spent… there’s no way you seriously thought I didn’t think you were a good guy.”

“You always… you gave me looks when Emma would tell a story of how I slipped out on a girl and never called her, or would hide from that one girl who got all clingy so I didn’t have to have an awkward conversation, and John was always making fun of my random hookups and I think I sounded… I didn’t come across well.”

“You just came across like a guy,” Regina shrugs. “Immature and bit of a player, but—”

“Exactly. And not the type of person anyone would seriously want to be with,” Robin explains.

Regina raises an eyebrow. “Obviously Marian disagreed.”

“But I figured _you_ didn’t,” Robin points out. “Or I worried that you didn’t. And what you thought of me meant a lot. I didn’t want to disappoint you. And I hated the idea that you thought I was someone who treated women like dirt. So I didn’t want to be that anymore.”

Regina nods, thinking of all the times he kept trying to tell her he was done being an asshole and was going to be a good man to the women he slept with. She never truly thought that he honestly thought she judged him for some college flings (she’s had her own), but, thinking about how his sisters teased him about being a womanizerl… That must have really made an impact. And really bothered him.

“But you know how I was. I would say something whenever I thought you were acting like an ass to someone else,” she reminds.

“Yes, and I hated it, it stuck with me. Every time. I tried to avoid those moments.”

Regina purses her lips. “But you… you would tell her that you loved her in front of me. That wasn’t for my benefit. You loved her.”

“I loved her in a way,” Robin agrees, “and there was initial excitement and nostalgia, but that wore off and I was left feeling… lukewarm.”

Regina doesn’t answer. She just thinks about how it felt back then. About how Robin treated Marian. But most of all, the way it felt when they were friends, friends who fell into bed together but friends nonetheless. And how every time Marian came around she waited for him to end their arrangement and tell her they fell back together. For things to become less lukewarm, to heat up again. She had long since dropped that fear, she thought. But then it happened with Marian, years later after all. They’ve never really talked about this particular insecurity. She buried it so deep, was so ashamed of it.

Still is, actually. Cannot stand that it bothers her this much.

“I _hate_ being this person. I hate how thinking of her makes me, that I can’t just be around her when it’s so clear that’s what your family and your friends want. This feeling went away for years I swear, but now it’s back, and it’s awful. I just keep thinking about how you keep finding your way back to her…” Regina chokes up, she can’t start crying in these things, it’s making her hate herself. “I hated how much it bothered me back then, I hate it still bothers me now, and I hate that you probably can’t even imagine being so insecure around me and have no idea what this feels like.”

“Of course I can. You don’t think I felt the same way about every guy you cared about?” Robin asks softly. “I get it, she was my high school ex and I went back to her a few years later and we tried it again, but it was horrible with her and we only lasted a few months. If you had gone back to Jefferson or when I thought you went back to Graham, when I saw him at Christmas—”

She chuckled darkly. “It’s not the same. I never cared for either of them like you did for Marian.”

“Didn’t you?” Robin asks, “You were terribly hurt when Emma went after Graham. I remember. I remember how it felt to hear you upset even now.”

She waves her hand. “My pride was hurt, and I was annoyed at Emma. It wasn’t about him.”

“And I didn’t think about that as the reason for the tears. But, you know, I didn’t cry my eyes out about Marian. Not the way you did with Jefferson. You cared for him quite a bit.”

“What?” she asks, furrowing her brow, trying to think of a single tear she shed over that mediocre man. “I never —”

“Emma told me she had to drag you home because Jefferson broke up and you were really upset. She was really worried about it. I know she wasn’t supposed to tell me but... fuck, we made a baby, I think it’s okay to share all our secrets now. I was with Marian when Emma told me, but don’t think hearing that didn’t —”

Right. _That_ night.

“You absolute idiot,” Regina chuckles, wiping at a tear, shaking another sad chuckle out before looking up at him. “I remember that night. Don’t you? It was the night you first brought Marian out with you.”

Robin still looks puzzled.

“How do you not realize I was crying over you?” Regina asks, shaking her head.

“But you told Emma—”

“I couldn’t very well tell her that I was crying over the fact her brother — who I was not allowed to date — was with someone else, could I?” Regina bites back. “I begged her not to say a word to anyone because I knew if you found out you’d know I was crying over you. It was so obvious.”

“It wasn’t!” Robin insists. “Or maybe it was and I’m an idiot. What I do know is it bothered me, it hurt, knowing _you_ were hurting over some other guy. And how I knew Marian and I weren’t going to last was because I was thinking about you more than I should.”

“That wasn’t the only reason,” she interrupts, because she knows they weren’t doing well, and she won’t let him rewrite this as flattering to her. “You said you couldn’t make her happy.”

“And she couldn’t make me happy,” Robin shrugs. “You remember exactly how long it took me to get over that relationship. Not long at all. She’s just a dear childhood friend, one I dated briefly when I was sixteen and again when I was twenty.”

“Regina,” the therapist says after a pause. “Let’s talk about the present. What are you worried about now?”

Regina purses her lips and thinks of how to word it.

And then she gives up.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I’m not ready to sound this pathetic in front of you,” she looks at Robin, “and her,” she shoots a glance at their therapist. “I have to go.”

“Regina, please—” Robin stands you, but it’s too late for her to look at him.

“Another day,” she promises, rising from her seat. “I just need some time.”

“Regina there is nothing wrong with sharing these feelings, I know it is difficult feeling vulnerable—” the therapist starts, but Regina has already made her mind up.

“I can't do this today,” Regina mutters.

“It was good progress,” Ingrid tells her. “It’s a lot. Maybe you’re right. But if you—”

She makes a beeline out the door without a word.

She’s not sure where she will go, but thank god they drove separately. She can spend a bit of time alone and then send Robin a text that she absolutely does _not_ want to talk about it, then come home and put this all away until she’s more emotionally ready to deal with it.

By the time she makes it to the lobby, she realizes it’s pouring down rain, and isn’t that just the most delightful cherry on a real sundae of a day?

The rain is loud and strong, and she really doesn’t mind it. she’s lucky enough to be wearing a hoodie anyway. And the rain will cover tears that are definitely coming.

So she steps out and bites her lip for as long as she can as the raindrops beat down, heavy, large, wet. And then the tears come as she thinks of how her quiet little anxious fears about Robin still having a thing for Marian weren’t entirely off.

And as much as he may say it was just a horrible coincidence, of all the women in the world, he had to choose _her._

The rain is loud enough to drown out her sobs, to cover any tears that might fall, so she doesn’t bother with an umbrella as she walks out into the thick of it.

“Hey! Regina!”

Shit.

She turns around to see him running after her, and she really doesn’t want to talk about anymore, really, not at all.

“Don’t shut me out, don’t walk away from me, please!”

”Robin, were fine, I just, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Sheturns in the direction of her car and starts to walk, but he catches up before she can open her car door, arm wrapping around her and spinning her towards him.

“Then we don’t have to talk about it. But I need to—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, he just kisses her. 

And she finds while she doesn’t want to talk anymore, she definitely wants to kiss him back.

So she lets him kiss her tears away, let’s hold him hoist her into his arms and make out with her deep and passionate.

He kisses her until they are both soaked, until the tears have nearly left her, until she’s laughing and shivering instead of crying, the rain pelting them as they do so. 

He reaches into the pocket of her hoodie and unlocked the car for her, opens the back seat and urges her inside. She goes, her wet clothes slide and drag across the leather seat, his own drenched clothes feel heavy and sticky on top of hers, but she doesn’t care, she laughs as he pushes his way in next to her and urges her onto his lap.

The car is warm and the air is almost oppressively humid, but all of this feels better than the misery of before.

She needed this, just a moment to be with her husband and not think about the exhausting fear and misplaced anger inside her.

“I love you,” Robin hums into her neck.

“I know,” she smiles, still a bit punch drunk and giddy. “I don’t doubt that.”

“Good” he chuckles into her shoulder. “We’ll be fine as long as you know that. We can put a pin in this until you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” she says stroking the scruff of his beard.

“I never would have even spent one day with her last year when we were broken up. Had I known you felt like this, that you ever weren’t entirely sure how she never held a candle to you, I would have been shunning her,” he tells her. Her heart beats hard at the sentiment, she believes him. Okay, it seems they will have a bit of this talk right here.

“I know,” she says just above a whisper. “I know you didn’t see her to hurt me.”

“I swear to you, I truly didn’t. And part of the reason I was with Marian in college for that short time was because you so convinced me you weren’t an option. If you hadn’t shut me down and convinced me it would never happen, I would have just waited and tried to win you over if I thought there was a chance back then.”

Regina rolls her eyes playfully. “You were thinking of being with me even then? Even before you and Marian started up again?”

“I certainly was not thinking of _not_ being with you ever,” Robin smiles, cupping her cheek. “You know how terribly attracted to you I always was, you know I had a habit of kissing you, and almost kissing you.. Of course I was thinking about being with you then. I never gave Marian much thought after we broke up in high school. When I saw her again in college it was familiar and easy, and I suppose a bit fun, but you were still on my mind all the time. I still thought of what you’d think of how I acted around her, how you’d expect me to treat a woman, and there were little things. She’d show me a dress she liked and I’d think about you and whether it was your style and how you’d look in it. Ridiculous shit like that. _You_ were one I couldn’t quite get over. Not her. I swear it.”

It’s a deep ache that she feels in her middle, a blunt, strong sensation of belonging, the feeling of some tension and insecurity breaking. They should have talked about this so long ago, her stupid pride always getting in the way of their ability to heal or truly understand each other. Why does she still feel the need to hide her feelings from him? She doesn’t need to protect herself. He won’t hurt or judge her.

She feels that now.

Enough where she has the courage to say, “I understand the circumstances and I know you are being honest, but you still slept with her. I’m trying to be mature about it, but yes, when August or Mary Margaret brings her up, it still hurts.”

“I won’t see her anymore,” Robin promises. “If I see her show up unannounced, we will just leave.”

“No, we can show up to the same parties,” Regina tells him. “Just… don’t go to them without me if she’s there. And don’t talk to her without me there. And I know that sounds ridiculous and insecure—”

“Not really,” he interrupts, “Regina, I slept with her. Recently. You’re being reasonable. Give yourself a break.”

She bites her lip and nods. “I’m glad we talked about this.”

“Yeah?” he asks, “Are you feeling better?”

“Much,” she admits, and it’s very true, she’s drunk on the feeling of it all, of thinking of them connected all this time. “Oh, and, I love him, but next time August mentions Marian, you should punch him in the throat.”

Robin laughs, coaxes her into another series of tongue-filled pecks and murmurs, “Deal.”


End file.
